Commentary |
Teaching about race is good, actually; states need to quit banning it

by Ian Wright
OtherWords.org

In this back to school season, millions of American students are returning to classrooms where the wrong course, lesson, or textbook can lead to deep trouble. Why? Because for the last several years, conservative activists and lawmakers have been waging a crusade against “critical race theory,” or CRT.

Critical race theory is an academic concept acknowledging that racism isn’t simply the result of individual prejudice but is also embedded in our institutions through laws, regulations, and rules.

As school districts have emphasized, it’s a higher education concept rarely taught in K-12 schools. But cynical activists have used CRT as a catch-all term to target a broad range of diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives — and seemingly any discussion about race and racism in the classroom.

Since January 2021, 44 states have “introduced bills or taken other steps that would restrict teaching critical race theory or limit how teachers can discuss racism and sexism,” according to Education Weekly. And as of this writing, UCLA has identified 807 anti-CRT “bills, resolutions, executive orders, opinion letters, statements, and other measures” since September 2020.

Critics claim — falsely — that CRT teaches that all white people are oppressors, while Black people are simply oppressed victims. Many opponents claim it teaches white students to “hate their own race,” or to feel guilty about events that happened before they were born.

In reality, CRT gives students of every race the tools to understand how our institutions treat people of different races unequally — and how we can make those systems fairer. That’s learning students of every race would be better off with.

But instead, this barrage of draconian legislation is having a chilling effect on speech in the classroom.

In 2022, Florida passed the “Stop W.O.K.E. Act,” which prohibits teaching that could lead to a student feeling “discomfort” because of their race, sex, or nationality. But the law’s vague language makes it difficult for educators to determine what they can or cannot teach, ultimately restricting classroom instruction. In my home state of Texas, SB3 similarly restricts these classroom discussions.

Running afoul of these laws can get teachers and school administrators in trouble. As a result of this hostile environment, the RAND Corporation found that two-thirds of K-12 school teachers have decided “to limit instruction about political and social issues in the classroom.”

Notably, this self-censorship extends beyond states with such policies: 55 percent of teachers without state or local restrictions on CRT have still decided to limit classroom discussions of race and history.

As a student, I find this distressing.

My high school history classes gave me a much richer understanding of race in our history, especially the discussions we had at the height of the Black Lives Matter protests. And in college, I’ve gotten to learn about racial inequalities in everything from housing and real estate to health care, politics, education, and immigration policy.

As a person of color, I can’t imagine where I’d be without this understanding. Neither white students nor students of color will benefit from laws designed to censor their understanding of history, critical thinking, and open dialogue in the classroom.

The fight against CRT is a fight against the principles of education that encourage us to question, learn, and grow. Rather than shielding students from uncomfortable truths, which they can certainly handle, we should seek to equip them with the knowledge to navigate the world, think critically about our history and institutions, and push for a more inclusive country.


Ian Wright

Ian Wright is a Henry A. Wallace Fellow at the Institute for Policy Studies and a student at Rice University from Dallas, Texas. This op-ed was distributed by OtherWords.org.


Commentary |
Mass deportations would be a nightmare for America

by Alliyah Lusuegro
OtherWords.org

There’s an image that’s stayed with me for weeks: A sea of people holding up “Mass Deportation Now” signs at the Republican National Convention.

Since then, I’ve been plagued with nightmares of mass raids by the military and police across the country. I see millions of families being torn apart, including families with citizen children. And I see DACA recipients — like me — carried away from the only life we’ve ever known.

Mass deportation wasn’t just a rallying cry at the GOP convention. It’s a key plank of Project 2025, a radical document written by white nationalists listing conservative policy priorities for the next administration.

And it would be a disaster — not just for immigrants, but for our whole country.

I moved to the United States when I was six. Until my teenage years, I didn’t know I was undocumented — I only knew I was from the Philippines. I grew up in Chicago with my twin brother. Our parents worked hard, volunteered at my elementary school, and ensured we always had food on the table. They raised us to do well and be good people.

But when my twin and I learned that we were undocumented, we realized that living our dreams was going to be complicated — on top of the lasting fear of being deported.

Everything changed right before I entered high school in 2012: The Obama administration announced the Deferred Actions for Childhood Arrivals policy, or DACA. The program was designed to protect young people like my twin and me who arrived in the U.S. at a young age with limited or no knowledge of our life before. We’re two of the 600,000 DACA recipients today.

DACA opened many doors for us. It’s allowed us to drive, attend college, and have jobs. And we’re temporarily exempt from deportation, a status we have to renew every two years.

DACA helped me set my sights high on my studies and career. Although I couldn’t apply for federal aid, with DACA I became eligible for a program called QuestBridge that granted me a full-ride scholarship to college. Today I work in public policy in the nation’s capital, with dreams of furthering my career through graduate school.

But if hardliners eliminate DACA and carry out their mass deportations, those dreams could be swept away. And it would be ugly — mass deportation would be a logistical disaster, taking decades and costing billions.

Imagine your friends, neighbors, colleagues, peers, and caretakers being dragged away from their homes. For me, it would mean being forced back to the Philippines, a place I haven’t seen in two decades. My partner, my friends, my work — all I’ve ever known is here, in the country I call home.

This country would suffer, too.

An estimated 11 million undocumented people live here. We’re doctors, chefs, librarians, construction workers, lawyers, drivers, scientists, and business owners. We fill labor shortages and help keep inflation down. We contribute nearly $100 billion each year to federal, state, and local taxes.

Fear-mongering politicians want you to believe we’re criminals, or that we’re voting illegally. But again and again, studies find that immigrants commit many fewer crimes than U.S.-born Americans. And though some of us have been long-time residents of this country, we cannot vote in state or federal elections.

Despite all the divisive rhetoric, the American people agree with immigration advocates: Our country needs to offer immigrants a path to legalization and citizenship. According to a Gallup poll last year, 68 percent of Americans support this.

My dark dreams of mass deportations are, thankfully, just nightmares for now. And my dreams of a secure future for my family and all people in this country outweigh my fears. We must do everything possible to keep all families together.



Alliyah Lusuegro is the Outreach Coordinator for the National Priorities Project at the Institute for Policy Studies. This op-ed was distributed by OtherWords.org.



Photos this week


The St. Joseph-Ogden soccer team hosted Oakwood-Salt Fork in their home season opener on Monday. After a strong start, the Spartans fell after a strong second-half rally by the Comets, falling 5-1. Here are 33 photos from the game.


Photos from the St. Joseph-Ogden volleyball team's home opener against Maroa-Forsyth from iphotonews.com.